The Inquisitor is Easily Distracted
by Knightfall1138
Summary: The Temple of Sacred Ashes has been destroyed, the Veil has been breached, and Thedas stands on the edge of chaos. A lone elf emerges from the destruction wielding the "mark", making her only person in all the land that can set things right. Andraste probably should have chosen better.


First there was the sound of it: deafening, leaving behind only the echoes of dying screams rattling around her mind. A nightmare growing tangible. Then came the light. Blinding, traced with a sickly green, coruscating, and a sharp pain lancing through her eyes and into the back of her skull.

Then came the heat. A horrible, fiery heat that coated her mouth with the taste of sulfur and burned away her clothes, her hair. Then her body, she could feel it cooking.

But then...

Nothing.

A cold, quiet kind of nothing. Not a sound. Not a thing to be seen.

Sensation came to her in steady waves, recollection coming at a trickle. Her face was pressed up against something like obsidian, chilled and sharp like glass. She braced herself against the ground and lifted her head up into the dark.

There was nothing to be seen, only heard. A terrible howling like the death rattle of a dire wolf. Something flashed just then, sparks of light. The kind of which she had just seen before it had swallowed her up.

It was coming from her left hand. Green flashes of energy, like a misfired spell. Her arm went numb with every spark and lingered for a moment or two. There was pain there, but it was manageable.

She took a few careful steps through the darkness until a light shone down from above, parting the unseen. The light must have attracted something, because she heard a scurrying sound at her back. She turned, and the many eyes of a horde of giant spiders glistened hungrily at the light's edge.

She ran toward the light, not knowing where else to find safety. The ground sloped upward at an unfortunate angle the closer she got, and before she knew it she was climbing frantically on her hands and knees. She dared to look back. The spiders were closing in.

Just then, the light above her seemed to coalesce, bending into curves and dividing into fingers and limbs until the image of a tall woman stood over her. The woman of light reached out, offering her help.

She reached out for the figure, but they were too far apart. She climbed a few more feet and reached out again, missing the woman's hand by inches.

"I can't," she said. "It's... It's too far."

The woman of light recoiled. "...Seriously?"

"Yeah, it's just... _Whew_, one second, I just gotta... gotta catch my breath here."

"You're about to die right now."

"This is the Fade, innit? I'm already dead."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Just give me a moment here."

The woman of light crossed her arms, tapped her toes impatiently. "Why'd you even make the climb if you were just going to give up right there? We're close enough that I don't even have to raise my voice. Just reach out!"

"You come down here," she said.

"What?"

"If this is so important, you come down here."

"Ah... I'm trying to save your life."

"And yet, I'm the one doing all the work."

The woman of light cradled her forehead as though a migraine was building. "There are spiders coming."

"How very original. Are there skeletons and giant rats here, too? I'm from the Free Marches. We kill scarier things on the way to fetch the post."

"Look, just reach out and take my hand and we can all go home. I've got big plans in store for you."

"Eh?"

"Big plans."

"I thought you said 'big pants.'"

"Why would I...? Forget it. I'm dooming you to the Fade. Hear me? Doomed." The woman of light turned her back. "Have fun here. You were going to be my Herald, my shining beacon to right the wrongs of the world beyond. You were to bring order to chaos, light to darkness."

"Syrup to waffles," said the almost-Herald.

"Maker..."

"That's cool. The Fade always seemed like a cool place anyway."

The woman of light exhaled. "If I walk down to you, will you take my hand?"

"And what happens if I do that?"

"You will... Why was I about to explain this to you? Will you take my hand or not?"

"You're talking to an elf. We don't agree to anything until we've read the fine print forwards and backwards. If you were really some kind of god-thing, you'd know we typically draw the shortest of straws and right frequently."

The woman of light nodded. "Point made. All right, when you take my hand, I'll return you to Ferelden alive. Once you're there, you will take your new-found ability into the world and unite the lands against evil."

"_Eeeevil._"

"What?"

"You said it weird. _Eeeevil_... That's what you sound like."

"Are you gonna go or not?"

"Sure, that sounds good." The elf turned and kicked an approaching spider square in the eyes. The wretched thing screeched and tumbled back, taking most of the other spiders down with it. "Like I said."

"I am going to regret this so damn much." The woman of light took a few careful steps down the slope, nearly slipping a few times, and reached out.

The elf, with a wry grin, took the proffered hand. A flash of green light enveloped her and she was borne away into the corporeal realm, where the fate of all things passed through her fingers.

—

Meanwhile, at a tavern on the south end of Kirkwall, a bearded man brought a mug of ale up to his lips and drank thirstily, his eyes glazed and his demeanor placid.

"Hey," said the bartender, pointing to the man. "Ain't you Hawke? The Champion of Kirkwall?"

The man, Hawke, brightened a bit upon hearing this. "I... I am," he said. "That's me."

"I thought so!" The bartender leaned over. "That means you must know Varric Tethras, right? What's he like, man? Hanging out with a famous author must be a neverending sunrise, huh?"

Hawke frowned and returned his gaze to his ale. "Sure," he muttered. "Sure, he's a great guy." He finished off his ale, paid his tab, and made for the door.

* * *

The Inquisitor is Easily Distracted

Written by Knightfall


End file.
